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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27374080">You can’t leave me!</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/erasercloud/pseuds/erasercloud'>erasercloud</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Super Dangan Ronpa 2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Blood and Gore, Cancer, Crying, Dementia, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sick Komaeda Nagito, Sickness, Suffering Komaeda Nagito, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes, Triggers, depressed nagito</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:41:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,094</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27374080</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/erasercloud/pseuds/erasercloud</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>(TRIGGER WARNING) SELF HARM AND SUICIDE</p><p>Hajime finds Nagito in his room after he committed suicide, and he doesn’t want to believe it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>80</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>You can’t leave me!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story revolves around Nagito committing suicide- it’s very detailed and triggering to those who may suffer with things. Please proceed with caution. </p><p>His illnesses are mentioned but don’t play a large role in this story.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tears streamed down his pale cheeks, he couldn’t take it anymore. The words echoed around his mind, sticking into him like sharp daggers, digging into him deeper and deeper every time he moved. His whole body felt heavy, like moving was a chore worth a thousand hours. Bottom lip trembling like a scared and frightened kid, he let out shaky sobs. No one would hear him, and even if they did no one would care. They all wanted him dead. Hot tears rolled from his dull, green eyes, spilling onto the floor with quiet splashes. Fingers shaking on his left hand, he gripped and tugged at the white hair on his head, trying to distract himself from the agonising pain in his mind. In his right hand he gripped a crumbled piece of paper tightly, which was becoming damp with the river of tears. All he wanted was to give the note to him... but he got no where near him....</p><p>The words hurt, and they had all been building up, and today was his final push. No one cared about him, they made it very clear... painfully clear... just speaking to Hajime became impossible, as someone would always step in and drag him away to ‘safety’. Komaeda felt like nothing but a burden. A token of bad luck, disguised with a layer of iron luck, which had slowly been chipping away since he was born... he wasn’t meant to be alive. He didn’t deserve anything... he was nothing... stuffing the note into his pocket, he crawled weakly over to his desk.</p><p>Sobbing quietly, his hands felt around for the same paper in his note book, ripping a page out quickly- dragging a pen off the desk. Tears flooding his vision, streaming down his cheeks like a tsunami of waves, which he couldn’t stop. Allowing them to drown his cheeks in pity. Shakily, he scribbled words onto the already wet paper, trying his best to think of a good goodbye message. After writing to around half way down the page, he gave up and signed the note, slamming it back down onto the desk with all the strength he had back in his dying body. Skinny legs quivered, barely being able to hold up his body weight.</p><p>Stumbling into his bathroom, he immediately snapped the lock into place, letting out painful cries of grief. The crack in his voice burnt the back of his throat, but he didn’t care. It had been too long since he could let it all out like this. As his wretched cries rang around the bathroom, his hands searched and searched, as if on autopilot. They didn’t stop until they felt it. The thing that kept him calm. The one thing that would help him. Stripping off his jacket, letting it lay lifelessly behind him on the tiled floor, he examined the shiny blade between his fingers. Something so small was going to make things so much better.</p><p>Trying to control his breathing, he wasted no time in pressing the sharp blade against his wrist, just the feeling of the cool metal calming him down. He knew he was broken. There was no denying it. His sole childhood was a nightmare he couldn’t escape from. Yet here he was, still alive. Countless times he should’ve died, but escaped with nothing more than luck... luck he didn’t want. Luck he didn’t need. Luck that was only really lucky to him and not everyone else around him. Luck that seemed to kill off everyone he cared about... he needed to do this. He was nothing but a living curse roaming the earth and infecting others. He didn’t deserve to be included with all those talented ultimates. He deserved to be 6 foot under already, so that’s what he was doing.</p><p>Forcing himself out of his thoughts, he began to slid the blade across his wrist, digging it deeper and deeper every millisecond it was still on his scarred skin. Fragile, thin arms were littered with cuts and scars of all shapes and sizes. Some deep and some only mere scratches on the pale surface of his skin. Blood pooled into beads before flowing down his arm, dripping onto the floor with a quite pitter sound- like the pouring rain hitting against a window without mercy. As his breathing began to calm, his hand getting a little less shaky, he continued to slice into his skin. Sobs of agony turned into sniffled of uncertainty, calming down as he watched the blood trail off his arm.</p><p>His only friend, that metal blade between his fingers, painting lines that would stay for decayed on his skin. The only one who could actually help him. Everyone else hated him. He hated himself too. But the blade was something he could always rely on. He had already made up his mind, he’s deciding to leave. That way he won’t upset anyone else, make people afraid, be a burden or hurt people with his luck. They would all be happy.</p><p>Everytime he cut, it would get deeper and deeper than the last, so deep to where he thought he may be hitting into bone. It hurt like hell, pain shooting all over his body and tingling him all over. He deserved the pain. He deserved the tears rolling down his cheeks. He deserved everything. Luck wouldn’t get him out of this one. He was taking control for once, being in charge.</p><p>Blood flooding out an ocean of pink, creating large puddles on the floor. He could barely find another place to slide open with all the blood blanketing his arm. As time went in and blood continued to pour out his arm, the lightheadedness hit him. Knees drenched in his own blood, the fabric of his clothes now clinging to his body with the sweat, tears and blood.</p><p>Slowly laying down, his eyelids fluttered automatically, ready to fall down for the last and final time. His breathing hitched and his fingers went limp- the bloodstained blade tipping onto the floor amongst the pool of blood. The agonising pain began to fade, leaving his body a tingling numbness. Every breathe became his last, before he reached his final breath, slowly drifting off into a deep sleep he would never wake up from.</p><hr/><p>Hajime sighed and looked at the time. It had been around 2 days since in incident, and there was still no sign of Nagito. Perhaps he’s been sneaking around and avoiding everyone... or something bad happened. It was obvious not many people cared about him, and no offence to Nagito but it would be so easy to kill him. In fact, the skinny male would agree to it. His mind began to wonder back to when he last saw him, remembering the paper he had clutched tightly in his bony hands. He wondered what the paper said. As curiosity got the better of him, he dismissed himself from breakfast and made his way to the cabins.</p><p>Making his way to Nagitos door, he began to think more about what could’ve been on that letter. Perhaps his next plan on how to kill everyone on the island? It wouldn’t surprise him- wouldn’t surprise anyone. Slowly, he knocked loudly on the door and waited, shifting nervously- moving weight on one foot to the other. Swaying slightly, he waited. And waited, and waited. But no response? Maybe Nagito had gone out... but that didn’t sound like him. He frowned and knocked again, maybe he was just sleeping? Sighing in annoyance, his hand gripped onto the handle. A very strong part of him told him to leave it alone. Don’t go inside. But he needed to. Twisting the handle, he creaked the door open slowly, carefully stepping inside. That’s when he got a whiff of a putrid smell, tingling his nose. It was vile, Hajime felt like throwing up. He looked around the empty room. Bed covers tossed back, curtains half drawn, a couple of clothes scattered around. Maybe it was better if he searched the place.</p><p>Walking around as quietly as possible, the first place he checked was his desk, moving pieces if paper slowly and checking underneath books. Nagito loved reading, Hajime would see him doing it a lot. Never really asked him about it, Hajime didn’t really care to think. Sighing, he looked around, wondering where the note could be. That was then a familiar looking note caught his eye. Smirking he picked it up and unfolded it.</p><p>”ah ha.” He said quietly in victory, but quickly went silent we he realised what it was...</p><p>
  <em>‘to whoever is reading this.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I am dead. I am long gone. I was never meant to survive, my destiny has always been death. I’ve been nothing but a unlucky charm hanging off people, cursing them with bad luck. Watching my friends and loved ones drop dead around me. I’m going to die anyway. If I don’t do it myself, the cancer and dementia will take me out soon. I have always been dying, just a slow and painful death. Please don’t be sad, it’s hardly a loss. A worthless guy like me shouldn’t effect you. The room will be free of all shadows, the air will seem cleaner and the sun will shine brighter. I didn’t do this because of you. I did this because of me. I’ve lived long enough to know I’m nothing but a burden. Nothing matters to me anymore, and I shouldn’t matter to you. Such great ultimates with fantastic talents, why would I even dream about being your friends? I guess I can dream about it forever now. Goodbye.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nagito Komaeda.’ </em>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Hajime had tears rolling down his cheeks, his hands trembling as teardrops dripped onto the wrinkled paper. Breathing heavily, his weak fingers let the paper go, watching in shock as it floated down to the gross gradually. Finally being able to move his feet, bolting towards the bathroom as he hit his fist against the stubborn door.</p><p>”NAGITO OPEN THE DOOR!” He yelled, twisting the doorknob with all his might, trying to open it, “FOR FUCKS SAKE NAGITO! OPEN THE DOOR!” He screamed, kicking and hitting the door. His heart was pounding fast, the sound of blood gushing in his ears as everything around him faded. All he focused on was getting through that door. As the foot flung open and banged against the wall with a thunderous noise, Hajime froze. His boiling blood froze, limbs locking into place as his eyes widened. No... no...</p><p>Dried blood pooled on the floor and staining his skin... body laid limp on the floor... lifelessly... falling to his knees, Hajime began shaking his body vigorously, “no! NO! NAGITO WAKE UP!” He screamed, pressing his fingers everywhere to try and find a pulse, but he never found one. He listened to the sirens go off about finding a body, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything anymore. Tears rolling down his face, his shaking hands cupped Nagitos cheeks, “please wake up...” he cried softly, staring down at his cold and deceased face.</p><p>Teary eyes traced over his lifeless body, before he caught glimpse of something peeking from his pocket. Without a second thought, he gripped the paper and pulled it out the pocket, uncrumbling it as he tried to smooth out the wrinkles and creases. His eyes skimmed over the messy handwriting, his bottom lip trembling.</p><p>
  <em>’to Hajime, </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I hope this isn’t too much of a burden, or that this doesn’t gross you out... in fact I know it will! I just purely want to get it off my chest, however I’m too cowardly to admit it allowed. I love you Hajime. I love you. Everything about you. All I want is to just be around you and have your hope. You’re so special and make me feel so many things... I hope you’re not too disgusted! If you want me to stay away just tell me and I’ll try my best to keep my distance. I understand if you don’t feel the same away, who could love trash like me?! Anyway, bye!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>-Nagito Komaeda’</em>
</p><p>Hajime let our heart wretched sobs, crumbling the letter back into a ball as he gripped it tightly. Sobs echoed around the bathroom as he tried to contain his screams of agony. This was all his fault. He let Nagito just die... gripping onto his arms, he felt the coldness of his skin agaisnt his fingertips. He was long gone... left bleeding out for days... the world was a cruel, cruel place. </p>
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